


Damaged People Gravitate Towards Damaged People

by buriedbarnes



Category: Norman Reedus - Fandom, Norman Reedus/OC - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fanfic, Fanfiction, Hitman AU, Mobster AU, Norman Reedus - Freeform, Norman Reedus/OC - Freeform, OC, OFC - Freeform, OMC - Freeform, fan fiction, hitman - Freeform, mobster
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-10 08:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buriedbarnes/pseuds/buriedbarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hit-man/Mobster AU. Kasey O'Donnell's life has gone totally wrong. She decides escape and become someone else, but what happens when she falls in love with a guy who wants to know more about her past? What happens when her old life and its choices catch up with her? Will it chase her man away or will he help her chase away her troubles? Norman Reedus to be introduced in future chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Norman Reedus to be introduced in future chapters.

I sat in the middle of the room. My head swiveled on my shoulders as I slowly looked around the room. My count was four bodies. Four bodies. I was covered in blood none of it my own. The inside of my gloves were sticky with sweat. As I stood up the pistol slid out of my hand and clattered on to the floor. My breathing was heavy and it felt like the room was spinning.

This is my life now. When had it gotten so out of hand? When had it come to this? My life is chaos. It's like a jigsaw puzzle that can't be solved because some of the pieces are missing. Maybe it couldn't be bothered to be fixed. I couldn't decided when it had gotten so bad. How did I end up in this situation?

I can make up all kinds of lies about my job, excuses really, but the truth of it is that dangerous men pay me to dispose of their enemies. I had killed four people and that was just tonight. I grabbed my black duffel bag off the floor and went into the next room to change. There was no way I could get away with going out in public covered in all this blood. Once I was finished I tip-toed my way through the bloodstained carpet. The icy wind burned my face as I exited through the back door and into an alley.

I tossed my duffel bag into the dumpster next me and burned my sweat-filled gloves. There was no chance the police could get DNA from that now. I stuffed my now numb hands in my coat pockets and walked hurriedly down the street. I wanted to go straight home to my apartment, but I had to stop by my employer's building to pick up the other half of my paycheck. That's how thing's work in this business. One half up front, the other half once it's over. You could say it's an insurance policy.

It was a short walk to her building. Most people never entered it. There were several large men patrolling it - inside and out - so it was obvious that it was a mob-owned building. Normally, that would be a red flag, but the police don't pay much attention to what goes on in these types of neighborhoods.

Well, the exception being someone's untimely death. I felt bad for whoever had to work the scene I left behind. It was messy, but I'm not the kind of idiot that leaves too many clues. It was going to be a long night for those cops. I trotted up the front steps of my employer's building, passing three guys as I walked down the hall. It was usual for me to come strolling in, these guys knew me and knew my occupation.

I slowed my pace when I made it to the stairwell. The metal door behind me slammed shut. I stared up at the three flights of stairs I had to walk up to get to the office. There's an elevator in the lobby, this building so ratty that I'm not even sure it works anymore.

I stormed up the stairs, taking them two by two, the echoes of my footsteps bounced off the walls. When I made it to the top there were two large men waiting for me. Their faces covered in ugly scars, they towered over me. I felt like I was two inches tall.

One of the men grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the stairwell and into the hallway. He held me up against the wall while the other man pat me down. I was used to the checks. It was one of my boss's many security precautions. No weapons of any kind beyond this point.

Just as the search was over, two more large guys came down the hallway. I wondered where they all came from. How do you find this many large men? It's strange really. Do they have a factory where they make these large men? "Kasey, you will come with us," one of them said in a thick Russian accent, his words dragged on as he spoke. "What? So now I have to have an escort, too," I scoffed. The office was just down the hall. "Newest precaution," said the Russian. "Can't take any chances with you," said the other guy.

What did he mean by "with you"?  
________________________________________________________________

I hated the woman sitting across from me. Her name is Ysabelle Rossi and she's from one of the top mob families around. As much as I dislike her, I kinda respect her. Not everyday you see a woman in this business. Her brown eyes had no warmth in them. She was evil to her core. She's the kind of woman who loves a game, and she just happens to be playing me. She plays a god with a heart like stone. I hate her more every time I see her.

However, she payed good money and I need it. Not only was the pay good, but she provided the weapons and supplies necessary for each job. It was her motto never to use the same gun twice - that's how you get caught. Ballistics these days has gotten very advanced and we can't afford the police making any connections.

"Kasey O'Donnell," her Italian accent broke the silence, "It's good to see that you survived another job." She looked so smug. "What's that supposed to mean," I questioned. She gave no answer. Instead Ysabelle tossed a white, blank envelope across her desk and into my lap. I could see the money through the opening.

"The other half of your paycheck," she said nodding her head towards the envelope, "Should be $4,000, I believe." I picked up the envelope and thumbed through the cash. It was the exact amount I was owed. Even though I need the money, I didn't really want it. It was dirty money, stained with the blood of my victims. I felt bitter about the whole thing. She had put a price on life and that price was $2,000 per kill.

"Well, I guess I'll be going then," I said standing up, "Thanks for the opportunity, Ysabelle." My hand had just clasped around the cold metal of the doorknob when I heard her voice from behind me, "I have another job for you. Come, sit back down so we may talk." Another job was the last thing I wanted.

I turned and sat back down across from her. She settled back into her chair, "It will serve you well if you accept my offer." "You say 'if' like I have a choice," I said through my teeth. I watched as she pulled a second larger envelope from her desk drawer. This time when she tossed it to me, I caught it in mid air. "This includes the usual - a name, a picture, an address - along with half of what I owe you," said leaning forward, closer to me, "You will take care of this, yes?" 

I clenched the envelope in my hands. It would just be one more. I nodded and stood up. A wide smile spread across Ysabelle's face and she let out cackle that sounded as evil as a witches, "Pick up a duffel bag on your way out."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Norman Reedus to be introduced in the next chapter (possibly).

I felt alone. I had done so much damage. The only reason I had was for the money. Everything was numb. The alcohol was doing it's job - making me forget. There was a knock at my door. My body felt like a bag of bricks as I got up to answer.

I had barely made it down the hallway before the door to my apartment flung open and my friend, Adam, came strolling down the hallway. "You know you're supposed to wait until I get to the door," I said as I steadied myself against the wall. "Oh, is that right," Adam said sarcastically. I brushed the hair out of my face, "Yeah, generally." "Generally," he repeated back to me as he flopped down on my sofa.

"What are you doing here," I said as sat in my reclining chair. He folded his arms over his chest, "Hey, you called me." "I didn't think you'd actually show up," I answered. "Well, I did," Adam said smiling, "Just the kinda guy I am." We sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I'm moving," I said suddenly. "Oh, do you want the couch," Adam asked getting up to move. "No," I answered, "I'm moving out of Boston." It was a decision that I had just made. "What," he asked with a surprised look on her face. "I'm done here. I'm done with this life," I said as I stood up and started pacing, "I want out."

Adam just sat on the sofa and stared at me. "I've got a lot of money saved up. I'll go to New York," I said faster as the idea started pouring in. I ran into my bedroom, Adam following right on my heels. I pulled out two suitcases from the closet and started emptying my drawers into them. I heard Adam calling my name repeatedly, but I couldn't stop packing.

"Kasey," he screamed and grabbed my arms pulling me out of my trance, "You can't leave. She won't let you." I jerked my arms free of his hold, "I'd like to see her try." "Kasey, you and I both know that when you get involved with Rossi family you don't just walk away," he said with fear in his eyes, "They own us and they're not just gonna let you run away with all of their secrets."

"Ysabelle's different," I said going back to packing. "No, she's not. She always gets what she wants," Adam said becoming more irritated, "She'll find you - have you killed - and you can't believe for one second that she won't." I knew he was right, but I wouldn't tell him that. He was silent for awhile after that.

I pulled a black duffelbag from my closet. It was from my meeting with Ysabelle two nights ago. I opened it and looked inside. There was an assorted supply of things necessary for the job Ysabelle had offered me. The set was complete with two 9mm pistols and silencers.  "There's no way I'll ever be able to carry these through an airport," I whispered to myself.

Damn, that meant I would have to take one of those crappy travel buses. "Kasey," Adam finally said, "I just don't want you to get hurt." I moved my drawer and pulled out the envelope from my meeting. I tore it open and took the money out of it then threw the rest of it away. Not looking at the picture of the man I was meant to kill to earn the rest of my money.

I tossed the wad of bills into my satchel and tossed it into the pile of bags beside my door. "Come with me," I turned to Adam, "There's still time to get your things." "No," he replied, "Someone's gotta stay here and cover your tracks." I smiled widely. "But I'm not happy about it," he said holding his hands up defensively.  
_____________________________________________________________

It was very loud at this bus station. People were yelling, rushing to get to the right buses. It reminded me of a pack of lions all going to after the same gazelle. I was standing by the bus watching some men load my suitcases on to it. I gripped my duffelbag and satchel tighter to my chest. I couldn't risk them getting their hands on it and finding out what was inside.

Adam jogged up to me, "Here are your tickets." "Thanks," I said, "Um, listen. Thanks for everything you're doing-" "Nope, don't do this," he cut me off, "Don't make this any harder than it already is." "Right," I replied. He grabbed me and hugged me.

"I'll try to keep Ysabelle off your tail as long as possible. Take care of yourself, Kasey," he said letting go of me. "Right back at ya, big guy," I relplied. He snickered, "Big guy?" "It felt like a 'big guy' moment," I answered. I heard the bus driver call everyone on board, "We'll, that's me."

I turned and walked to the bus. I had stepped on to the bus when I heard Adam call my name from behind, "Will I ever see you again?" I turned to face him and smiled, "I hope so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Norman Reedus to be introduced in the next chapter (possibly).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally introduced Norman and (surprise) Sean!

Once I arrived in New York City, I went straight to my new apartment. To be honest, it was more of a loft than an apartment. It was bigger than the one I had before and more exspensive, but I had bought this one fully stocked with furniture. Thankfully, I was the first tenant, so everything was new and unused.

After I had unpacked my things and gotten settled in, I pulled up a chair to the front window. I watched the traffic in the streets and the businessmen and women hurrying to get to their meetings. Everyone looked like they had somewhere to be, even the homeless. Ah, the big city.

New York City wasn't really the ideal place for me and it's really not that far away from Boston, but it is protected. Protected from Ysabelle Rossi, that is. The good thing about New York City is that it comes with it's own mob boss family. You see, mob families are very particular about their territories and every mob boss know that crossing into someone else's borders can be very dangerous - especially if you're in a turf war.

Luckily, the Rossi's were already in a turf war with NYC's head mob family, the Krushnics, ever since Ysabelle owned Brooklyn. That makes New York City the perfect place for me. Ysabelle Rossi is a smart woman - smart enough to know not to send her men across the borders. Definitely, smart enough not to cross the borders herself. I was safe for now.

The landline phone rang from behind me and I jumped up to answer it. I hadn't given my new number to anyone, but Adam, so when the voice on the other end wasn't him I started to worry. "I'm sorry, who is this," I interrupted. "Oh, I'm Norman. I live two floors down from you," the man said. His voice was gruff, but soothing. He had the kind of voice that made you want to believe everything that he tells you.

I still didn't know how the guy got my number, but I didn't ask out of fear that he would hang up. I wanted him to keep talking to me. He continued, "Anyway, I was calling to tell you that we're having a picnic in the park this Sunday. Everyone who lives in the building comes, so I figured I'd let you know so could come meet everyone." 

"Oh, thanks," I replied, "What time does it start?" "12:30," Norman said quickly. "Okay, I'll try to come," I answered. "Great. I'm looking forward to putting a face to the name, Kasey O'Donnell. See you then," he answered and hung up before I had a chance to reply. 

I wondered how he knew my name - and my number. I'd have to ask him at the picnic. He couldn't hang up on me then. If he looked anything like his voice sounded, then he'd be as hot as the sun.

______________________________________________________________

Three days later, I awoke to the sound of my buzzing alarm clock. I showered and made myself presentable. When my clock read 11:45, I put on my shoes and started heading to the park. It was the perfect weather outside. As I walked down the street the sounds of the city filled my ears and reminded me of the foster home I had grown up in and then my little apartment.

It reminded me of Boston - of home and of Adam. And right there, in the middle of a busy, New York sidewalk, it hit me how I was going to miss all of it. It reminded me that, unless Ysabelle Rossi was dead, I could never go back.

Once I had reached the park, tears were streaming down my face and I was suddenly very grateful that my makeup was waterproof. I sat down on a bench and tried to pull myself together. I am a woman. I am strong and powerful and beastlike. I thought, My ovaries shed it's lining once a month, I should not be crying about missing home.

I wiped the tears off my face and followed the noise of laughter over to were the picnic was being held. I smelled the food before anything else. It wasn't a large gathering, but I looked at all the smiling people and realized that I had pictured New Yorkers very negatively. They weren't all angry people who yelled about how late they were.

"Kasey!" I heard someone yelling. I came back to reality and followed the voice to a group of about four people standing by the grill. The man who had called my name was standing in the middle, very wildly telling a story while the rest laughed with the force of their entire bodies. He stopped and thrust his hand out to me, "Kasey, glad you could make it. I'm Sean."

He was loud and rambunctious. I shook his hand, "Nice to meet you, Sean." His grip was firm and he seemed genuinely happy. It was hard to find people like that now-a-days and I could already tell that I liked him.

They all went around introducing themselves to me until they got to the man standing at the grill and I felt my face get hot. His hair was wispy and kind of all over the place and perfect all at the same time. The lines oin his face told countless stories of humor and intelligence. He's the kind of person that you can't help, but be attracted to. 

The group that had been around me had gone off to do other things. Sean looked at me and laughed before clapping me on the back with his hand and walking off. It was like he knew what I was thinking. Maybe he had thought it himself. Anyway, now it was just me and grill guy. "I'm Norman," he said turning to shake my hand, "We spoke on the phone." 

I was pleasantly surprised that this was the man I had spoken to; they had the same raspy, calming voice. "Oh, thanks for inviting me," I replied. "No problem," he said pointing to the grill, "How do you like your steak?" "Medium rare is good," I answered. After he had flipped the steaks, he turned around and handed me a can of coke, "Where are you from?"

"Boston," I replied, taking a sip. "Nice place," he smiled, "I've been there a couple times." His smiled looked oddly familiar. I was sure I had seen it before, but I couldn't pinpoint where. Once the steaks were removed from the grill, Norman called everyone over. I took a seat next to Sean and all twelve spots at the table were filled. We stacked our plates full of food and I could already tell that this was going to be a good day.

____________________________________________________

After we had finished eating, Norman dragged me off to see the park's pond. I took me over to what looked like a small forest with thick trees. There was a small opening in between two trees where someone had built a wooden balcony which acted as a doorway to the pond.

Inside the ring of trees was a large, beautiful pond meant for taking long walks around it. We sat on a bench close to the water and I couldn't help but notice how amazing my surroundings were. The sun shone down through the tops of the trees and twinkled on the top of the water. "This is one of my favorite places to think," Norman said in a low voice, "Which is good because my son, Mingus, loves this place."

"How old is he?" I asked. "He turns fourteen in a couple of weeks," he replied. I looked at Norman and noticed that he wasn't wearing a ring. I thought it was strange considering that he is a very attractive man, "Where's his mom?" "Oh, we're not together anymore," he answered, "She's working in Italy right now - modeling."

"I guess that's good for you, though," I said, "Getting to spend time with your son." "A positive outlook on things - I like that," Norman laughed, "No, I'm happy with the way things turned out. I loved the woman, but she was kind of a bitch, to be honest." His laughter was just as beautiful as every other part of him. We were silent for a little bit after that, so I decided to ask him about the phonecall that he had placed to me.

"So, when you called me to invite me to the picnic, how did you get my number?" I asked cautiously. He didn't seem like the guy to run away from awkward situations, but I still wanted to be careful. "The entire building gets a letter and an email whenever a new tenant moves in," Norman answered, "It's kind of like a memo. It gives us a name, a number, and an apartment number."

"Contact information, basically," I said. "Yeah, it's kind of creepy actually," he remarked. Well, that solved that issue and we were back to silence. It was kind of peaceful actually. Neither of us felt obligated to say something. It was comfortable. I almost forgot that the man next to me was a complete stranger.

I was about to ask him about Boston, but Norman jumped up from the bench, "Well, I have to go pick up my son from his friend's house." He offered me his hand to help get off the bench and I gladly took it. "This conversation, although short, has been nice," he continued, "What do you say to getting dinner sometime and finishing it?"

This handsome, normal guy was asking me to dinner. It was strange when I thought about it. I wasn't used to normal, but I welcomed the idea of it. "Yeah, sure," I replied, "I'd love to." "Great, how's Friday for you," he asked. "That's works," I answered. We walked back to the other end of the park and said goodbye to everyone else.

 "I'd walk you back to the apartment building, but Mingus is in the other direction," Norman laughed again. "That's okay. Tell your son I said hi," I said and turned to walk back to the apartments. The last thing I heard was Norman's voice yelling, "Will do!" before I got lost in my thoughts.

I felt giddy like a young, school girl. I couldn't remember the last time I had felt like this. Hell, I could remember the last time I felt anything, but dark numbness. I couldn't believe that I was actually going to be doing something normal. It felt different and new and good.

Before I knew it I was running down the street to get back to my apartment. I couldn't wait to call home and tell Adam all about it. The wind blew my hair bac and a smile stretched across my face. For a moment I forgot who I was and let go of who I used to be. And I felt... happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Norman Reedus to be introduced in future chapters.


End file.
